RT.

A poor wild hay-man of the Rigiberg,
Kind sir, who on the brow of the abyss,
Mows the unowner'd grass from craggy shelves,
To which the very cattle dare not climb.

HARRAS (_to_ GESSLER).

By Heaven! a sad and pitiable life!
I pray you set the wretched fellow free.
How great soever may be his offence,
His horrid trade is punishment enough.

[_To_ ARMGART.]

You shall have justice. To the castle bring
Your suit. This is no place to deal with it.

ARMGART.

No, no, I will not stir from where I stand,
Until your grace gives me my husband back.
Six months already has he been shut up,
And waits the sentence of a judge in vain.

GESSLER.

How! would you force me, woman? Hence! Begone!

ARMGART.

Justice, my lord! Ay, justice! Thou are judge,
Vice-regent of the Emperor--of Heaven.
Then do thy duty--as thou hopest for justice
From Him who rules above, show it to us!

GESSLER.

Hence! Drive this insolent rabble from my sight!

ARMGART (_seizing his horse's reins_).

No, no, by Heaven, I've nothing more to lose.--
Thou stir'st not, Viceroy, from this spot, until
Thou dost me fullest justice. Knit thy brows,
And roll thine eyes--I fear not. Our distress
Is so extreme, so boundless, that we care
No longer for thine anger.

GESSLER.

Woman, hence!
Give way, or else my horse shall ride you down.

ARMGART.

Well, let it!--there--

[_Throws her children and herself upon the ground before him_.]

Here on the ground I lie,
I and my children. Let the wretched orphans
Be trodden by thy horse into the dust!
It will not be the worst that thou hast done.

HARRAS.

Are you mad, woman?

ARMGART (_continuing with vehemence_).

Many a day thou hast
Trampled the Emperor's lands beneath thy feet.
Oh, I am but a woman! Were I man,
I'd find some better thing to do, than here
Lie grovelling in the dust.

[_The music of the bridal party is again heard
from the top of the pass, but more softly_.]

GESSLER.

Where are my knaves?
Drag her away, lest I forget myself,
And do some deed I may repent me of.

HARRAS.

My lord, the servants cannot force their way;
The pass is block'd up by a bridal train.

GESSLER.

Too mild a ruler am I to this people,
Their tongues are all too bold--nor have they yet
Been tamed to due submission, as they shall be.
I must take order for the